


Near Miss

by queen_scribbles



Series: Astrid Hawke Canon [3]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, That turns into fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 08:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11398641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: This came about after I saw my umpteenth art/fic for theLI freaks when Hawke almost dies soloing the Arishok fightand part of my brain wentWhat if it was theLIthat almost died?. Astrid and Seb were almost too perfect a choice, given how they've been dancing around the edges of admitting they're attracted to each other for ages by this point.





	Near Miss

Everything was on fire.

The houses, the shops, even patches of the water where flammable goods had spilled as the qunari began their rampage. Astrid took it all in with a slow-rising, steady rage as she and Aveline ducked and dodged and made their way to Lowtown. Every ruined shop, every glassy-eyed corpse only served to fan the flame of her ire. _I'm going to kill that bull-headed bastard. And any of his cronies that get in my way._

Forcing down the rage, she turned to her companion. "Well, that didn't go as planned, did it?"

Aveline snorted, raking ash from her hair. "You could say that. Alternately, you could call it an unmitigated disaster. Did you have to _agree_ with him?"

The mage sighed, scowling at the collapsed remains of a tailor's shop. "Aveline, what d'you think Carver and I would've done if some son of a bitch forced himself on Bethany?"

Now the guard-captain was scowling too. "That's not-"

"We would've killed him, we would've made it hurt, and you know it," Astrid cut her off. "I was honest. The Arishok appreciates honesty-" Her words broke off with a hiss of pain and she glanced at her arm. Her scowl deepened and she pressed the opposite hand against the gash near her elbow.

"You alright?" Aveline asked, brow rising in concern.

Astrid nodded. "I'll be fine. It's only a graze. " Aveline didn't look convinced, so she turned to exhibit the ripped sleeve and small gash beneath.

"Right, then," Aveline sighed. "With how fast they struck, they've been planning this for some time, just waiting for an opportunity. We're good, but I don't like our odds trying to fight through this mess by ourselves."

Astrid grinned, nodding at a pair of approaching figures. "I don't think we'll have to."

"There you are! I was beginnin' t' worry." Sebastian's relief was clear, the archer not even attempting to hide it as he and Fenris reached the women and slowed to a halt. "Are you alright?"

"We're fine," Astrid nodded, resting a hand on his arm. "Did you... find anything?"

He shook his head, but Fenris was the one to answer. "No. She is well and truly gone, without a trace. We will have to manage without her."

_Dammit, 'Bela. Of all the times for you to bolt..._ Astrid took a deep breath, gave Sebastian's arm a light squeeze, and looked at the three of them. "And manage we shall."

"The Arishok will most likely head for Hightown, the Viscount's Keep," Aveline pointed out, all business, fingers drumming against the hilt of her sword. "Take out the leadership and most of the nobility will fold."

"Not this member of the nobility," Astrid muttered, heading for the last of the alleyways between them and Lowtown proper. "Let's go."

>*<>*<>*<>*<

They fought their way through the qunari forces in Lowtown; thankfully with only a minimal adjustment period for Aveline's style of weathering blows versus Isabela's preference for dodging them. There were a few spells and arrows hastily given trajectory tweaks, but on the whole, they managed rather well. The Grey Wardens were a surprise, though. And a significant enough one they distracted Astrid in the middle of the fight--just long enough for the saarebas crouched near Gamlen's door to catch her with some spell and send her flying into a wall. Ears ringing and vision doubling, she was effectively down for the count through the remainder of the fight. 

"Astrid? Talk tae me." A calloused hand cupping her cheek. Concerned blue eyes filled her vision as the world stopped rocking. 

"I'm fine," Astrid assured the archer, covering his hand with her own. "Just a touch rattled is all."

Sebastian's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled in relief. "Good. What would it say about the legendary Serah Hawke if she could be taken down by a mere qunari?"

She rolled her eyes and whacked him with her free hand. "Sebastian Vael-"

"If you two could stop making bedroom eyes at each other for ten seconds?" a very familiar--and thoroughly unimpressed--voice interrupted.

"Carver!" Astrid _squealed_ , rocketing to her feet and hugging her brother with enthusiasm despite his heavy plate armor.

Carver chuckled-- _almost_ grudgingly--and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "Why am I surprised to find you neck deep in trouble yet again? I should have known this is where you would be."

"'Course. **_I_** still live here," Astrid teased, tapping one finger against his breastplate. "What happens in this city actually affects me. Which leads me to ask: What're the Grey Wardens doing here?" 

He shifted, glanced at his superior. "Just... passing through. Warden business."

"So asking you to help would be futile...?" she hinted. 

Carver nodded and grimaced.

"Much as we might like to," his superior chipped in, raking one hand through close-cropped hair. "We're on something of a deadline. Best I can do is give you these." He handed Astrid a few good-sized lyrium potions. "C'mon, Carver. We take too much longer, Stroud might think we forgot about him, maybe decided to visit taverns instead."

"Yeah, you in the Hanged Man, Al. I'd _pay_  to see that," Carver laughed. "I'm coming. Goodbye, sister."

Everything Astrid wanted to say jammed in her throat. _Did you hear about Mother? Be safe. I miss you. Please, please write more._

All that came out was, "Bye, Carver," before she turned back to her companions. "Come on. The Arishok's not going to lounge around for us to dilly-dally." 

>*<>*<>*<>*<

All throughout Lowtown and Hightown both, it was more of the same; fighting qunari, rescuing what few survivors they found, and pressing ever forward. They picked up some more reinforcements on the way to the keep--Knight-Commander Meredith and First Enchanter Orsino both agreed to work with them, though the Knight-Commander was clearly unhappy about not being the one in charge. Still, she was willing enough to help Orsino distract the squad of qunari guarding the entrance to the keep, allowing Astrid's group to slip past and inside. They reached the throne room just as the viscount's head hit the floor. His bloodstained crown rolled across the carpet until it collided with Astrid's boot. As the metal circlet wobbled and fell, the dark-haired mage glared daggers at the Arishok. 

"Is this your idea of diplomacy?!" she demanded hotly, snatching the bloody coronet from the ground and thrusting it toward him.

"Hawke," the qunari leader grunted acknowledgement of her presence as the doors banged shut behind them. "I am no diplomat."

"Well, that's bloody obvious," Astrid snapped back, heedless of the gawking, frightened nobility watching her. "Any diplomat worth the title would know _murdering_ your host because you don't like the way they run their house is terribly poor form. Usually in those circumstances, you would just _leave_."

Fenris laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Hawke..."

For the first time in their friendship, she ignored not only his cautionary tone, but the part of herself that always wanted to work things out peacefully if possible. "Why didn't you just leave?!"

Irritation flickered in the Arishok's golden eyes. "I have told you, Hawke. I am denied Par Vollen until-"

"You return with the Tome of Koslun. I remember," Astrid cut him off. "I mean when I told you that Isabela had fled the city with it, that your _prize_ was getting away, why in _Andraste's_ name did you decide sacking Kirkwall was more important than retrieving the most sacred text in your religion?! That doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me."

"The abuses of zealots, and even those in authority-" he glared at Aveline- "demanded a response. Or do you condone the rampant chaos and disorder in your streets?"

"Kirkwall has its problems, yes. I'm not denying that, or condoning the behavior of criminals. But they are problems that should be dealt with by _Kirkwall's citizens_ , not by an outside force."

The Arishok stared at her with implacable, stony eyes. "So, Hawke, what would you suggest?"

"You leave. Right now. And we find in our hearts to forgive you to the point we _don't_ consider this an act of war," Astrid replied swiftly. Meredith might protest not 'responding in kind', but right now, the mage only cared about getting the qunari _out_ of her city. 

"And the Tome of Koslun?" the Arishok tested.

Astrid opened her mouth, but her answer was cut off as the doors slammed open once more. "I believe I can help you with that," Isabela announced breezily, striding into the room with the monstrous tome tucked under one arm. She fearlessly approached the qunari leader and handed it over. "I'm sure you'll find it undamaged, for the most part." 

The Arishok let out a deep, rushing breath. "Yes... I am now free to return to Par Vollen. With the thief."

Astrid's stunned "wait, _what_?!" was almost drowned out by Isabela's string of invective demanding much the same thing. "You have your book. And surely you've taken enough blood from this city to equal one thief."

The Arishok shook his head. "Those whose blood was spilled were paying for their own crimes, not hers. She cannot go unpunished."

"Then we'll take care of it," Astrid insisted stubbornly, grip tightening on her staff. "She is a citizen of Kirkwall, not a land under the Qun, and hasn't chosen personally to follow the Qun, either. So it would be more fitting for her to face Marcher justice than Qunari. Looking at what's come as a result of her theft, I doubt they'll be lenient, if that's your fear."

The qunari leader snorted derisively. "So, then, neither of us will be swayed from our position... So be it, Hawke. You leave me no choice. I challenge you, basalit-an. A duel to the death with the thief as the prize."

>*<>*<>*<>*<

In the hushed silence that followed among nobles and qunari alike, Sebastian was sure everyone could hear his heart pounding. _Oh, Andraste, please no..._ He and Fenris shared a look of dread, both picturing what would follow when Astrid said yes. She was fast, and smart, and an incredibly talented mage, and he had every confidence that she could _win_. But there was no way she would walk away _unscathed._

He knew it was in Astrid's nature to respect and honor the dictums of other cultures as much as possible. It was tied to her diplomat's heart, as much a part of her as her freckles or crooked smile, but everything in him wanted to ask-- _beg_ \--her to consider saying--

"No." She said it quietly yet firmly, green eyes locked with the Arishok's gold, but it still rebounded through the silence like a shout. A shocked murmur chased in the wake of her refusal, covering Sebastian's sigh of relief.

_Maker, thank you._

The Arishok's brow furrowed. "You refuse?" he rumbled, obviously surprised that this woman, who had always done her utmost to respect the rules of his culture, was taking a different tack this time. 

"Absolutely," the mage confirmed vehemently. "Perhaps there was a chance of my agreeing _before_ you tried to kill me and force your way of life on my city, but not now."

His face hardened. "So be it, then." He turned to his men. " _Vinek kathas_."

Even not understanding the words, Sebastian could figure out their meaning from the accompanying gesture--and the way Astrid cursed and dropped into a defensive stance. His bow was in his hand before the first qunari moved, an arrow drawn and loosed before the ashaad knew what hit him. Isabela flashed past him, throwing herself headlong into the fight. Fenris and Aveline weren't far behind. Sebastian elected to hang back, stay near Astrid, for several reasons, only the least of which was them both being better at range.

"Watch out!" The mage's fingers snagged on his hood and she yanked him towards her, half a second before a lightning bolt scorched the spot he'd been standing.

"Thank yeh," he grinned, nocking another arrow and giving the string just a little bit of extra pull as he sent it on its way toward the saarebas responsible.

"You're welcome. Nice shot," Astrid commented with a breathless smile, clobbering one of the spear-wielding giants with the head of her staff when he got too close and finishing him off with a burst of flame. 

"Again, thank yeh. Duck!" He fired through the space she had occupied a moment prior and caught the skulking ashaad in the shoulder.

"Thanks. We should focus on the Arishok, don't you think?" She nodded toward the qunari leader--currently trying to to cut Fenris in half. The elf blocked and dodged as best suited, but they both knew he would tire eventually. "Wanna try the teeth again?"

"Normally I'd be against combat testin'," Sebastian replied, dodging the thrust of another ashaad. "But I think I'll make an exception. Ready?"

"Whenever you are," she nodded, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

Praying fervently that this actually _worked_ this time, Sebastian fired two shots in quick succession at the Arishok's back. Astrid made a sharp gesture with one hand, and ice encased the arrows just before they hit their target. The increased sharpness to the point drove them deeper--unfortunately in the Arishok's pauldron rather than his back, as he moved at the last second.

Still, the frozen missiles distracted him long enough Fenris got in a good hit. The Arishok roared in pain as the elf's sword slashed a deep wound in his side, and the roar turned into a bellow when Isabela appeared out of thin air to dig her hooked daggers into his arm. Almost frothing with rage, the massive qunari swept away elf and pirate with one swing of his arm. 

And Sebastian gave just a little too much attention to their battle rather than his own.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

If she hadn't been so occupied trading spells with the last saarebas, maybe she would have seen it coming in time to warn him. But she was, and she didn't. So she wasn't aware of the incoming spear until it whistled past her shoulder on its way to slicing into Sebastian's draw arm. The ashaad responsible vaulted the balcony rail and charged toward them, pulling another of his spears free as he approached. He used the haft to sweep Astrid aside, hellbent on finishing off the wounded archer.

"No-" Her cry of alarm was cut short as she bounced off the wall, biting her lip and dropping her staff when she hit the ground. She rolled to her feet, ignoring the blooming headache, and shoved a wave of telekinetic force toward the qunari.

_Too late,_ she realized numbly, watching in horror as the bladed portion of the ashaad's weapon gouged into Sebastian's arm and stomach less than a second before her spell reached them and sent both of them tumbling. The qunari got up slowly.

Sebastian didn't get up at all.

_No. **No.** nononononononoNO. Not him too._ The words wouldn't form, her heart lodged in her throat. All that came out was a guttural, inarticulate scream. Shaking with a combination of terror and rage, Astrid swept her hand in a gathering motion, snapping her wrist up and then down in quick succession, using sheer force of will to swoop all the qunari into the air before slamming them into the ground hard enough to stun them. 

All except the Arishok, of course. Whether it was his iron will, or the fact he was half as big again as his followers, the qunari leader simply grunted, swaying ever so slightly at the spell. He turned to face her, arrows jutting out from his pauldron, bleeding from the half dozen wounds her friends had managed to inflict, ignoring the fact said friends were currently cutting down his dazed and uncoordinated soldiers. Golden eyes once again locked with green. And then he charged. 

Astrid stood fast, ignoring her friends' shouted warnings. _Maker as my witness, you will not leave this room alive._ At the last possible second, she pivoted sideways, waiting until he was off-balance from abruptly changing direction to strike. But when he hit that point, that split-second opening, she lunged. Fire bloomed from her hand as she ground her palm against his face, her other hand scrabbling for a hold so she could maintain the pressure. 

The Arishok roared in pain, his fist colliding with the side of her head just as her fingers closed around one of the arrows lodged in his pauldron. The arrow came loose in her hand as she tumbled to the ground. Astrid was back on her feet in a second, charging in close with reckless--desperate--abandon. 

_I have to end this. I can't help him until it's over._ Her fingers tightened around the arrow shaft, currently her only physical weapon. The lack of mana was beginning to wear on her, so she _really_ hoped this worked. Once close enough, she dodged the Arishok's blades and drove the head of the arrow into his neck, angling it downwards. She let go, dropped, and rolled away from the swaying giant, heading for her staff. It took everything in her not to drop to her knees next to Sebastian and try to _fix him_. The nagging chorus of doubts and terror was almost deafening, but she ignored it. _Almost done..._ She felt some of her strength return as her fingers closed around the staff, but when she wheeled to face the qunari leader, he had fallen to his knees, blood running down his chin and weapons slipped from his grasp.

"W-We... shall... return..." he rasped, glaring at the approaching mage.

" _You_ won't," Astrid retorted, channeling a tightly coiled lightning bolt through his skull. Even as his corpse hit the ground, the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter arrived, weapons drawn and ready for a fight. 

Meredith relaxed her stance almost in disbelief. "It's... over?"

"It is now," Astrid confirmed, breathing hard and swiping blood out of her eye. "Thanks ever so much for the distraction. Think you can handle clean-up as well?" She nodded toward the corpses littering the throne room. "I have wounded to take care of." She didn't give the templar a chance to protest as she hurried over to kneel beside Fenris next to Sebastian's ominously still form. 

"He's alive, but it's bad, Hawke," he informed her grimly. 

_Here we go again. You're going to lose another person you care about because you couldn't protect them. How many times, Astrid? How many times are you going to **fail**? _ She fought back the whispers in her head, the demons sensing her exhaustion and seeking an escape, and willed her voice to be steady as she stared at the awful gash across Sebastian's stomach. It didn't work. "Get Anders." 

Calm. She needed to stay calm. Kirkwall needed her strong, not breaking into hysterics. She could fall apart behind closed doors. 

"Hawke-" Aveline began. _He's going to be busy tonight..._

"I can't fix this!" Astrid cut her off harshly, eyes now glued to the faint rise and fall of Sebastian's chest. "I'm _not good enough_. Get him to my house, and someone. _Go get_. _**Anders**_!"

Isabela took off with speed that was impressive even for her, leaving the two warriors to handle the wounded archer and bowstring-tense mage.

"Do you think you can heal him enough that moving him won't kill him?" Fenris asked, tone blunt but also somehow apologetic. 

Astrid fought down a fresh wave of terror--and the urge to vomit--at the words. She _really_ needed to get somewhere private; she was about to shatter. "I-I can try..." Healing spells weren't her strong suit when she was at her best. Exhausted, panicked, and fighting the mother of all headaches, she was going to be abysmal. But it was _Sebastian_. She had to at least try. So she rested one hand over the worst of the wound, closed her eyes as his blood trickled over her fingers, and _prayed_ as she channeled the spell. 

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Darktown in general and the clinic in particular were almost always somewhat desperate and chaotic, but tonight it was a thousand times worse. The part she hated the most was that all these people legitimately needed their healer, and she was going to take him away. But Hawke's face, the way her voice trembled and her hands shook, they all spoke of someone on the edge of losing the only thing keeping her sane. 

So Isabela plowed through the lines of people, heedless of the insults and protests lobbed her way. She'd heard much worse than anything this crowd could throw at her. "Anders!"

There were too many people, too much noise, and she didn't get a response.

_This is your fault, you know,_ a little voice in her head prodded. _All these people, Sebastian, all of this happened to them because you wouldn't trust Hawke._

__

__

_Oh, shut it,_ she fired back, and raised her voice. _" **Anders!!** "_

Her years at sea had given her _great_ volume, and this time a disheveled blond head popped up out of the bedlam. "Isabela? What are you... Can it wait?"

"No. It can't," she replied, taking in the circles already forming under his eyes. "Hawke needs you."

The mage started in her direction, than glanced helplessly at all the wounded filling his clinic, obviously torn. "They need me, too."

"Anders, we're talking life and death, seconds count here," the pirate snapped. "If you're coming, come _now_. If not, tell me so I can let her know."

"No, no, I'm coming," he assured her, hastily gathering some things and giving instructions to his overwhelmed, suddenly very frightened-looking, assistants. "So, where are we off to?"

"Her estate," Isabela replied, shoving her way back out through the crowd. The names were worse now, as they caught on she was _taking_ the healer, not just cutting in line. "That's where they were taking him."

"Wait, _him_?" Anders frowned in confusion.

"Hawke had to fight the Arishok, it... turned into a... bit of a brawl, and Sebastian caught one of those spear thingies of theirs across the gut. He's in bad shape."

"But Hawke's alright?" he pressed.

"Andraste's tits," the pirate growled, grabbing his arm to hurry him along. "Physically, yes, she's fine. For the most part. But did you hear me say Sebastian's in bad shape? As in, _dying_. As in, what d'you think it'll do to Hawke to lose him, especially so close after what happened with her mother?"

He hesitated, and she nearly slapped him. Did the man not understand the word _hurry_? "It's not as if they were a thing..."

She snorted, rounding another corner and picking up speed as the crowds thinned. "Come off it, Anders. They're a thing every way but officially, even if they won't admit it yet. All of us know it."

Anders muttered something she didn't catch.

"If this is coming from the crush you like to pretend you don't have on her, let me make something clear: She's spoken for. She does not and will never feel the same way as you. If you care about her _**at all,**_ you _will not_ let Sebastian Vael die. Now come on." Her fingers dug harder into his arm as the two of them raced through the streets, ensuring he didn't slow.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

He tried to die on her twice between arriving at the Hawke estate and when Isabela finally showed up with Anders in tow. Both times Astrid dragged him back with sheer willpower and what little healing skill her father had instilled in her when she was younger. Each time scared her more. She wasn't sure she'd succeed a third time. When the estate door banged open and she heard Bodahn greet Anders, she very nearly passed out from sheer relief. 

"Hawke?" Anders couldn't hide his surprise as he entered the room.

"Do I look that bad?" she joked weakly, hands rubbing at the blood-- _Sebastian's blood_ \--that covered her robes.

"Worse," he returned with a sympathetic smile. "But better than I do, I'm sure."

"Oh, no, there's not _nearly_ as much blood on you," Astrid snarked as Anders skirted the discarded pieces of Sebastian's armor that haphazardly littered the floor. "...Sorry. I'm _really_ tired." _And really scared._ "I shouldn't have said that."

"No need to apologize," Anders assured her. "Out of curiosity; how much of that is yours?"

It was a hard question, but a relevant one, and Astrid struggled to keep her voice level as she admitted, "Hardly any. Mostly just this." She traced the drying blood trail from the cut over her eye. "Don't worry about me. Nothing a bath and rest won't fix, but I'm not getting either until I know he's gonna be okay."

Anders took the hint and turned his attention to Sebastian's injuries. "Mmm, arm's not the worst I've seen; I can probably heal those up without so much as a scar..." His voice trailed off as one hand drifted over the ugly wound across the archer's midsection. "Hawke, I... this is really bad..."

"What're you saying?" she demanded, voice shaking, nails digging into her palms.

"I-I don't know if I can-"

" _ **No!**_ " she interrupted, the hysteria finally breaking free. "That's not good enough! The first time I met you, you sodding brought someone _back to life_! Anders, I _**cannot** _ lose him, too!!"

"The day we met, I wasn't exhausted!" he shot back, irritation creeping into his voice. "I hadn't been healing for hours, I wasn't low on mana-- What are you doing?!"

Astrid's hands frantically searched the various pockets and pouches of her robes and belt. _Maker, come on, where are they?!_ Finally, she found the correct pouch and dug out one of the lyrium potions Carver's commander had given her. She plunked it in Anders' hand. "Will that help?"

"Where did you-" He shook his head. "Not important. Do you have another one? I'm going to need your help." He must have seen the panic rising in her eyes. "Astrid, if you want him to live, this is going to be a two-person job."

She dug out a second potion and uncorked it. "I can't lose him," she repeated, before downing the blue liquid. "Not him, too."

Something flickered in Anders' eyes as he set the empty flask on the bedside table. "Then let's get to work. I can't make any promises, Hawke. Not beyond 'I'll try'."

"Then try," she whispered hoarsely. "Please."

He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. "It's going to be a long night."

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Anders' warning proved true; it was four hours and another near miss with the Grim Reaper before Anders finally, cautiously, declared the danger past.

"He's not _entirely_ out of the woods," he clarified, tugging the last stitch tight with shaking hands. Both mages had wrung themselves dry by hour three, and Anders had switched to conventional care. "There's always risk of infection, and I don't like how much blood he lost, but his odds are definitely better now."

Astrid nodded, rubbing her thumb along the side of Sebastian's hand. "Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. You should get some sleep; you look awful."

He shot her a weary grin. "I could say the same to you. You look about ready to keel over. But I need to finish, bandage him up, and get back to the clinic."

She shook her head, faint pulling at her lips. "You're as stubborn as I am... I know I can't talk you out of it, so I won't even try."

Anders laughed, which turned into a yawn. "I wouldn't say no to help finishing up here, though."

"Oh, obviously." Astrid nodded, blinking rapidly to fight another wave of exhaustion. "What d'you need me to do?"

He held up a wide roll of bandages. "Depends. You want to hold him up or wrap him up?"

She just stared for a minute before his meaning clicked. "I'll go with hold. Too fumble-fingers right now to wrap." With only minimal hesitation, she scooted over on the bed until she could pull Sebastian's head and shoulders into her lap and prop him up enough for Anders to wind the bandages around him. Even stitched the wound on the archer's stomach was ugly, and she was grateful once it was out of sight under the bandages. As Anders worked, she occupied herself with gently sliding off the remnants of Sebastian's ruined shirt and pushing down the blood-soaked blanket so it could be changed out. Fortunately, it was a thick enough cover that the sheets were in decent shape underneath. Her fingers absently combed through Sebastian's hair as she made a mental note to have Orana pull out a fresh blanket.

_We'll probably have to burn this one... Shame. It was one of Mother's favorites..._ Astrid's snapped out of her sleep-deprived musings when Anders nudged her foot. "Huh?"

"All done," he informed her, stepping back.

"Oh. Thank you."

He half-smiled. "You said that already."

"I know. 'M gonna be sayin' it a lot," she said sleepily. "T' fully express my gratitude."

"Alright, then. I've been warned," Anders chuckled, giving her knee a light squeeze. "He's all yours, Hawke."

Tears of gratitude welled up as she nodded, and she hastily blinked them away. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Anders replied simply, then gathered his things and left.

Isabela walked in as the healer walked out. "Am I safe in assuming he's out of the woods?"

Astrid nodded, jaw cracking as she yawned. "For the most part, yes."

"Good, then it's time to take care of you."

_Maker, I'm too tired... And I don't want to move..._ "'Bela, I'm fine. And I... want to be here when he wakes up."

The pirate snorted. "You look like shit, Hawke. He wakes up to this-" a nod at Astrid's bruised and bloody face- "you'll scare him to death."

"That's not funny!" Astrid protested snappishly.

"Wasn't tryin' t' be. C'mon, I had Orana bring warm water to your room. I'll help you clean up a bit, Fenris'll sit with Sebastian 'til you come back, and then you can fall asleep in the damn chair if you like." Isabela held out one hand and Astrid reluctantly worked her way free to follow her from the room.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Cleaning up didn't take long, mostly because Astrid was so tired she simply sat in a chair and offered no resistance as Isabela washed the blood off her face, salved and bandaged the hand she hadn't realized she'd burned, and helped clean off the rest of the blood. Neither woman spoke much; exhaustion and not knowing what to say proving the perfect recipe for silence.

After everything else was taken care of, Astrid discarded her bloodstained robes and pulled on trousers and a loose-fitting shirt. "You can have Orana burn those."

Protest flickered in Isabela's eyes. Everyone in their circle of friends knew what those robes meant to her. They'd been a gift from her mother--one of the first things bought with what Astrid gave her of the Deep Rods money--and designed after robes her father had worn when he was younger.

Astrid saw the look, knew what her friend was thinking. "I can't... Even if we get all the blood out, every time I wear them I'll be back in that room, watching Sebastian try to die on me and I just can't do it. Burn them."

Isabela nodded. "Whatever you say, Hawke."

"Right now... right now I say I'm going back in there and falling asleep in the chair so I'm at least _there_ when he wakes up." She scratched lightly at the bandages around her hand. "Thanks, 'Bela."

"Don't mention it. Now get back in with your man." She gave Astrid a nudge toward the door.

_He's not my man_. Astrid opened her mouth to protest, but the words didn't come out. She wasn't sure how true they were anymore.

Fenris nodded solemnly to her as she re-entered what had been her mother's room. "Hawke. You didn't miss anything of note."

Relief flooded her at the assurance. "Thank you, Fenris. You're free to leave..." something in the way he shifted compelled her to add, "unless you want to stay? Either or both of you, I don't really care. There's plenty of rooms, just take your pick." She summoned the last vestiges of energy she could find to cross the room the room and collapse into the chair by the bed.

Isabela cocked an eyebrow at Fenris, and the elf gave a barely noticeable shake of his head. "We're not going anywhere. For one thing, I'm fairly certain half of the city wants to string me up and the other half wants to skin me alive. For another, there's no telling if you'll need help at some point."

Astrid shrugged, slouching lower in the chair to get comfortable. "Suit yourselves."

The two exited the room. "Holler if you need us."

"If I can find the energy," Astrid mumbled, her eyes sliding closed as the adrenaline finally faded enough for the exhaustion to win. Her last conscious thought was a bare-bones prayer of gratitude to the Maker. _Thank you for not taking him, too._

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Sebastian was still asleep or unconscious when she woke hours later, but his breathing was steady and deep, and he was noticeably less pale.

_"Thank you_ ," she mouthed toward the ceiling, running her fingers lightly down the bandages around his arm. When her fingers brushed against skin, his hand twitched, and Astrid practically burst into tears as the part of her that was still terrified of losing him calmed just a little. She let her hand linger for a moment, and just watched him.

"How's he doing?" Fenris' question caught her off-guard and she started.

"Better," she smiled wanly. "Still out of it, but definitely better."

"Can I get you anything?" He leaned against the doorframe, studying her face as he asked.

As if on cue her stomach growled. "Apparently, I could use some food. Check and see if Isabela wants anything. Bodahn or Orana can help you find what you need. And, Fenris?" He paused halfway out of the room. "It doesn't need to be fancy. Bread and cheese is fine."

He nodded. "Very well."

It didn't take terribly long for him to return, bearing both food and a folded scrap of vellum.

"What's that?" Astrid frowned, looking up from the book she was trying--and failing--to read.

"Isabela's gone," Fenris replied, handing her the vellum. "Probably somehow relating to the rock through the guest room window. It appears she was correct about the city's response to her part in the qunari problems."

Astrid unfolded the paper. Isabela didn't mince words. _Hawke, I can't ask you to fight any more battles for me, and it wouldn't do to tarnish your image. I'll be in touch._

She sighed. "With an attitude like that about it, she's probably halfway to some other city-state by now. Doubt it'll do much good to try and find her. I mean, you can try if you want, but..."

Fenris raised an eyebrow as he dragged a chair over. "You're taking it well."

Astrid shrugged, raking her fingers through her hair. "She said she'd be in touch, which means she isn't gone for good. And I have more important things to worry about than babysitting a grown woman."

"Like babysitting a grown man," Fenris said with a touch of wry humor.

"Who almost died last night," she countered. " _Multiple_ times. You try watching someone you l- care about come _that close_ to being gone forever and then talk to me."

To his credit, the elf did not gleefully seize upon and badger her about her slip. He simply grunted a concession of the point and continuing eating.

Astrid sighed, playing with a loose lock of hair as she studied Sebastian's face. "I wish that qunari had come after me," she confessed in a near-whisper.

Fenris shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of food before replying, "And I am glad he did not."

Her head snapped up, hands frozen in the process of fixing her ponytail. "I thought you two were _friends_ , how can you even _say_ that?!-"

"Because he had _armor_ ," the warrior cut her off, nodding at the badly rent chainmail hanging off the dresser. "And still he was nearly killed. You do _not_ wear armor, so what do you imagine would have been the result?"

"I have magic," Astrid protested. "I could've-"

"Still been caught off-guard," Fenris finished for her calmly. "I know you care for him, Hawke, but the reverse is also true. And I am quite certain he would agree with me, were he awake; better him than you."

She snorted. "The dog-lord refugee-turned-noble is more important than the Prince of Starkhaven?"

"Even assuming he decides to reclaim the title, yes. To him you are."

_That_ was like a punch in the gut. Sensing and dancing around the edges of mutual attraction was one thing. Having it confirmed by an outside source was something else entirely. "H- How do you...?"

"As you said; he and I are friends," Fenris shrugged. "We talk."

"About _**me**?_ "

"About many things; faith, forgiveness, absolution. But yes, you have come up on occasion. And I'm only telling you this to assure you that Sebastian would be _relieved_ he was the one hurt, not you."

Her eyes watered again, and she wondered briefly when she got so damn emotional. _When you nearly lost Sebastian and wound up several hours short on sleep,_ her brain supplied helpfully. She cleared her throat and blinked away the tears. "Any word on how clean-up and recovery are going?"

Fenris accepted the redirect without comment. "No. But that simply means Aveline has been too busy to come give you an update. Or she fears disturbing you."

"Mm. Am I being selfish, Fenris? Holing up in here with Sebastian rather than helping?"

"I would say killing the Arishok and driving the qunari out of the city is more than your share of 'helping', so no. You're not being selfish. Or, if you are, it's deserved," he replied.

"Very reassuring-" she began, but stopped herself midsentence when Sebastian moved. It didn't go beyond him shifting slightly to what must've been a more comfortable position, but it was encouraging, all the same.

"You need to be here with him, Hawke," Fenris assured her. "Let other people worry about the city for a day or two, and you take care of him and yourself."

Astrid gave a wry smile. "Do I really look bad enough that you feel a need to say that still?" True, her head hurt from getting punched in the face by a giant qunari, but she thought she'd cleaned up well enough it wasn't noticeable.

"I just know you well enough to tell you're still exhausted, and thus need to take care of yourself," he sidestepped diplomatically. "And to that end, I shall take my leave and let you get some more rest."

"I'm not _that_ tired," she protested, fighting back an _incredibly_ ill-timed yawn.

"Yes, you are," Fenris contradicted. "I'm not saying you have to sleep, Hawke. Try again to read your book. Sit and watch him breath. Just do something that won't wear you out."

Astrid laughed. "B'cause talking to you is so exhausting."

"Because a few hours of sleep does not make up for the night you had," he corrected, gathering the dishes from their meal and heading for the door. "I'm your friend as well as Sebastian's, Hawke. For both your sakes--as well as my own--get some sleep." He was gone before she could argue, though really, she couldn't come up with a good rebuttal.

So the mage picked up her book and tried once again to focus on the tale within its pages. But Fenris had been more right than she realized, and it didn't take long for her eyes to drift shut, the book tumbling to the floor as she lost her war to stay awake.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Astrid woke again as dusk darkened the sky, starting awake with the vague sense something had brushed her hand. She blinked sleepily and glanced down. Her burned hand had come to rest on the bed when she drifted off, and now Sebastian's fingers were brushing lightly against the bandages as half-open blue eyes tried to focus.

_Half open._ It hit her like a lightning bolt and she jolted upright, fighting through the lingering weariness. "S'bastian?"

"You... alright?" His voice was hoarse, raspy, and barely more than a whisper as he stared at her hand. But those two words were still enough that she had to rapidly blink away the tears, turning her hand to cover his as she nodded.

_Oh, Maker, thank you. Bless Anders, and **thank you**._ "It looks worse than it is," she promised softly, sniffling.

He blinked slowly, eyes opening wider as his gaze traveled to her face. "Does tha' go for all of it?"

"Mmhm. It only hurts when I laugh. Or, y'know, breathe."

Sebastian chuckled quietly. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"You only get snarky like this when you're tryin' not tae cry," he informed her, with a look of such concern in his eyes it was all she could do to keep the tears at bay. "I'm truly sorry for scaring yeh so."

"You- I-" Her voice broke and the tears started rolling. "I was _terrified_. Scared senseless that I was going to lose you, too. Sebastian, I- I'm really glad you woke up."

He smiled. "So'm I. You're here."

Astrid blinked, clamping down hard on the rush of girlish delight the words had stirred; wondering if he knew what he was saying, if he really meant it. "Y-You... We shouldn't push too much; you should get more rest."

Sebastian nodded, shifting his hand so he could slip his fingers between hers. "Only if you do as well. I ken only imagine how tired you must be."

She gave him a watery smile. "Deal."

When Fenris stuck his head in to see if Astrid needed anything, he couldn't help but smile at the pair of them, hands clasped as they slept--even though Astrid had slouched to a position that bent her arm at what looked like a horribly uncomfortable angle. He watched them for a few moments, shook his head, and closed the door.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

He woke before she did the next morning, pulled from his sleep by a sharp stab of pain--a reminder that even simple things like shifting position were going to complicated for a while. Once the pain faded, Sebastian turned his attention to Astrid, wondering if the honesty of sleep would show him anything she'd managed to hide the night before; injuries or aches she hadn't wanted him to see.

To his vast relief, there didn't appear to be anything beyond her hand and the very swollen, incredibly obvious black eye she'd tried to brush off. The archer smiled, cautiously working himself slightly higher on the pillow, and rubbed his thumb along the edge of her hand.

"You're looking much better," Fenris commented in an undertone, leaning into the room.

"Feelin' it, too," Sebastian nodded. "Though I understand I have a long ways to go yet."

Fenris cocked his head in acknowledgement. "You gave her-- _us_ \--quite a scare, my friend. I don't think I've ever seen Hawke that rattled before."

"Mmm... did I hear m' name?" Astrid mumbled, blinking owlishly at the two of them as she sat up. She stretched, arching away from the back of the chair and uncoupling her hand from his to raise above her head.

Sebastian was hit with the strangest combination of feelings--missing her touch, but very much enjoying the sight of her stretching like a cat. The way her toes curled against the rug, the neckline of her shirt slipped askew over one shoulder, the lack of tension in her posture; they all spoke of someone happy. Someone relaxed. And he was unspeakably grateful those words could be applied to her. Last night... last night he'd been able to see the last traces of fear behind the relief, a small hint of how much of a wreck she'd been. That was--mostly--gone now, her green eyes showing good humor and just a hint of mischief.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," she said, almost shyly.

"I could say the same," he returned. "Nice tae see th' difference a fair bit a' rest makes." He fought down the urge to to reach out, run his fingers over her face to reassure himself nothing was broken under the bruising around her eye. He didn't want to seem presumptuous, and for all he knew the area was still tender, broken bones or no.

Besides, they still had an audience. Fenris coughed and shifted back toward the hallway. "If you no longer need me, Hawke, I believe I will go see if Aveline requires assistance with anything." He paused, smirked at the two of them. "That is, if I can trust you to behave yourselves when left alone?"

Astrid went a truly amazing shade of red as she glared at the warrior. "Isabela has rubbed off on you entirely too much."

Fenris chuckled. "At least I don't deny it." He--wisely--ducked out of sight before the mage threw something at him. A minute later, they heard the front door close as well.

Astrid looked down at her hands, picking at the edge of the bandages. "I really am glad you're going to be alright." It was little more than a whisper.

Sebastian reached over and stilled her hands. "You keep sayin' tha', lass. Is it really s' hard tae believe?"

"Hard to..." she snorted a laugh. "Sebastian, you almost died on me--and I mean skin-of-your-teeth  _almost-- **three times**_! Two of them before Anders even got here. I had to stare the very real possibility of losing you dead in the eye _three times_ in _one_ night. So, yes, to me the fact we're even having this conversation is a damned miracle."

Something tugged at his brain then, a memory from when he first started 'traipsing about' with her, as Elthina termed it. A laughing, sheepish admission that she was downright _awful_ at healing spells. And if it had been as near a thing as she described...

Sebastian gave her hands a comforting squeeze. "I really am sorry I scared ya so bad."

"It's not like you did it on purpose," Astrid shrugged. "You didn't consciously decide to try and die on me. If anything, it's my fault for putting all of you at risk by not accepting--"

"No," he cut her off. "I thanked the Maker with a fervency Elthina's been tryin' tae pull from me for _months_ when you said no. And I thank Him still."

"Really? Even though..." the words trailed off as her gaze slid to his stomach, as if she could see through the blanket and bandages to the wound underneath. Considering she'd spent hours staring at it in all its ugly glory, she probably could.

"Aye." Pain tugged as he pushed himself further upright--despite the protest in her eyes--and shifted his grasp on her hands. "I'm no' so selfish as to wish m'self out of harm's way by wishin' you further into it. It's better me than you, anyway," he finished in an undertone, thumb tracing absent-minded patterns against her skin.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Her heart lurched in her chest as Fenris' earlier commentary was given significant weight. Just hearing it from him, it was easy enough to rationalize away; _obviously_ Sebastian only cared for her as a friend, there couldn't be more while his vows still stood, he'd never shown any _real_ indication of how he felt... She'd refused to get her hopes up knowing they'd just be crushed. But Sebastian saying it, looking at her _like that_ , with the conviction of a man who knew exactly what he was saying, _that_ was much harder to discount.

"Why?" It came out in a whisper. _Andraste, do I dare...?_

"B'cause if that qunari accomplished _this_ when I wear armor, you'd probably be dead. An' I... I don't want tae even imagine life without you."

All of the air left her lungs in a tremulous rush as she lurched forward and kissed him.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

He very nearly hadn't said it. He'd almost deflected--yet again--with something about how Kirkwall needed her, or she was the only one who could keep Fenris and Anders from killing each other. Something light. Something _safe_ , that wouldn't lay his heart bare. But the words had wanted _out_ so he let them come.

Maker, was he glad he had.

Even as he raised a hand to cup her jaw and deepen the kiss, however, Astrid rocked back, perching on the edge of the bed, chagrin plain across her face. "I-I'm sorry. I- Your vows- I shouldn't've-"

Sebastian chuckled and tugged her close enough _he_ could kiss _her_. "Let me worry abou' my vows, hmm?"

"Mmm." His assurance procured, she took him at his word and all but _melted_ into the kiss, one hand braced against the headboard to avoid putting extra strain on his injuries. Still, she was the first one to break away, still looking uncertain. "Sebastian, are you sure...."

"Keep this up, an' I'll think yeh don't want me, lass," he teased in a whisper, relishing the look he earned.

"Maker's breath, no! I-I mean, I do, that's not-" She growled in frustration and glared when he chuckled. "I've a good mind to whack you, Ser Vael. If you weren't already grievously wounded..." She shook her head. "I'm just worried about your vows and your health. The vows because you swore them for a reason, and I hate for you to break them for me and then regret it later. And your health..." she grinned. "Wouldn't want you to overexert yourself. Undo all Anders' hard work. Me stealing your breath away is probably a bad idea right now."

He had to admit, she had a point. Several very good ones in fact--though he couldn't imagine ever _regretting_ that kiss. Still, he was feeling a touch light-headed, and probably from more than the kiss. To that end, and to ease the--admittedly adorable--wrinkle of concern creasing Astrid's brow, he eased back into a position that was closer to laying down. "You're right, as usual. If we're not goin' tae do anything that might endanger m' vows or health, ken we at least talk? Abou' us an' these feelin's we've apparently _both_ been rationalizing away."

Astrid laughed, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. "I suppose we can do that. One condition: you have to tell me if you start feeling tired. You're only a day and a half off nearly getting killed, and already pushed further than you prob'ly should have."

He did love watching her get all Mother Hen, even though it broke his heart knowing she was like that because of everyone she'd lost. So he smiled and nodded. "I promise."

>*<>*<>*<>*<

The way he looked at her made it hard to think straight; a mix of concern, admiration, and fondness with just a dash of wonder. "Alright, um, where do we start?"

Sebastian thought for a moment. "With me tellin' you that you drive me crazy in th' best way possible. And even if I'm no' yet convinced reclaimin' Starkhaven is th' right path, th' fact it would make pursuin' you easier makes it fair temptin'."

Her face _had_ to be red. There was no way it wasn't after that. "Well, I'll reply by admitting I've been double- and triple-checking my motives for at least the past two months, making sure I advocate your reclaiming Starkhaven because it's _truly_ what's best and not because I'm falling in love with you."

Her confession hung between them for a pregnant moment, the honesty of The L Word burning like an ultimatum in the air.

Until Sebastian spoke, a smile tugging at his lips as he took her hand once more. "Nice tae know we're on th' same page." His smile fully bloomed when she cocked an eyebrow. "I'm fair certain I'm fallin' in love with you, too. I didn't say anything b'cause I wasn't sure how you felt an' I didn't wish tae presume. B'sides, I wasn't sure--and t' be honest, I'm still no'--whether I should remain a brother or reclaim my lands. It's no' fair t' give you false hope."

>*<>*<>*<>*<

"Is it false hope?" she asked, idly rubbing her thumb in small circles against the back of his hand.

"No' entirely. No' anymore." He could only imagine the lecture he would get from Elthina for even conceding that much; acknowledging that he was seriously considering the idea of reclaiming Starkhaven. He didn't care. Astrid's smile reached her eyes, and the warmth of it was almost a physical presence in the room. "I'll have t' think abou' it. _Pray_ abou' it. But there's definitely a chance it's no' false hope."

"That's all I need," she whispered. "A chance."

Both were silent for a long moment, processing the implication of this conversation for their relationship.

"So, what do we do with this?" Sebastian finally asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"We start with you getting some more rest," Astrid replied with a smile. "And since I'm not planning to budge from this spot, I'll probably fall asleep as well. After that... we take each day as it comes, I give you time to make up your mind, and we see what happens."

"I can't ask you tae do tha'," he protested. "I'm goin' tae be a good while makin' a choice, an' it's just as unfair tae ask you tae wait, tae no' pursue someone else because _maybe_ I'll make my choice an' find myself able tae court you as you deserve."

"While I do find it unbelievably sweet of you to worry, first of all, you're not asking," she pointed out. " _I'm_ making a choice. I'm choosing to wait--gladly, I might add--because I don't want anyone else, I want _you_." She let out a small, breathy laugh. "And leading out from that, secondly, there _isn't_ anyone else."

"Really?" That surprised him enough he tried to push himself upright again, but both his injured arm and his midsection roared fiery protests and he didn't make it very far. "I find tha' hard tae believe," he managed, through the ensuing waves of pain.

Astrid frowned in confusion, free hand resting on his shoulder. "Why? Who did you think...?"

"No one in particular," he allowed. "Just figured there had tae be _someone_. I mean, the men in this city have _eyes_ , do they no'?"

She blushed at the compliment. "Well, I suppose there is one..." A smile quirked her lips when his muscles tensed, and she gently prevented him from attempting to rise again. "He's deeply religious, royalty, but you'd never know it with the way he follows me around like a lost puppy..."

Sebastian caught what she was doing and played along. "Sounds like trouble, he does."

She shook her head. "Not at all. He's kind. And loyal. And whatever may be in his past, I rather like the man he is now."

It was a gamble, but every other one he'd taken today paid off, so he decided to try.

"Enough for him tae steal one more kiss b'fore we go back tae behavin' ourselves?" he whispered.

Astrid smiled and leaned forward until they were less than an inch apart. "Say the magic word."

"Please, lass?" He barely got the words out before she obliged him.

She only held it a few seconds before she started giggling and had to break away, resting her forehead against his. "I just thought of something..."

"Clearly," Sebastian chuckled. "Care tae let me in on th' joke?"

Astrid sat back enough she could meet his eyes, her own dancing with mirth. "I think we just cost Varric a sovereign."

He arched an eyebrow. "Do tell."

"Dunno the specifics, but he and 'Bela had a wager regarding whether you'd ever actually so much as kiss me. He's going to be _pissed_." 

"I'm findin' it a mite hard tae care," Sebastian admitted. "Serves him right."

Astrid laughed and kissed his forehead. "Get some rest, Sebastian."

"As you wish," he mumbled, feeling the weariness she'd anticipated settle in, sleep dragging at his eyelids.

>*<>*<>*<>*<

Astrid watched him drift off, a smile tugging at her lips. She had to admit; she found it equally hard to care if Varric was pissed. For this moment, all was right in the world. And, she decided as she leaned back in the chair, hand still clasped with Sebastian's, she'd be damned if she wasn't going to enjoy it while it lasted.

**Author's Note:**

> This came about after I saw my umpteenth art/fic for the _LI freaks when Hawke almost dies soloing the Arishok fight_ and part of my brain went _What if it was the **LI** that almost died?_. Astrid and Seb were almost too perfect a choice, given how they've been dancing around the edges of admitting they're attracted to each other for ages by this point.


End file.
